


just to impress you

by admlynch



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell, Fangirl - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: ? - Freeform, College AU, Florist AU, Fluff, M/M, bubble tea, bus rides, flustered boys, general cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 18:41:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5836522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/admlynch/pseuds/admlynch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon has a huge crush on the boy who sits next to him on the bus every day, also Simon’s a florist. Ft. Bubble Tea dates in london</p>
            </blockquote>





	just to impress you

**Author's Note:**

> basically i listened to the zolas for awhile and this idea popped into my head so like.. little fluffy snowbaz...

I wasn’t sure I’d ever get up the courage to ask out the cute black-haired boy. He seemed so untouchable with his slick, dark hair and immaculate outfits. He even managed to look posh while wearing jeans. Nice jeans, they looked good on him. We sat beside each other on the bus every morning, I was always on my way to the flower shop and the black haired boy was going to university. At least, that’s where I assumed he went. He always wore headphones, and had a patch on his backpack for the University of London.

It was a sunny morning, and when I got on the bus I realized my mistake immediately. I still had the movie I’d rented the night before in my backpack. Cute Univeristy boy was already sitting on the bus, almost waiting for me, but I had to go back and return it. The store was only a block down, and if I went now, I could probably make it in time to catch up by the next bus stop. 

I jumped off the bus, and I felt University boy staring at me as I ran down the street. I knew I must look like a mess, my jumper was a size too big and my shoes were scuffed, and even my hair looked bad this morning. My bronze curls were sticking up at all the wrong angles, and I felt annoyingly self conscious with his gaze pinned on me. I didn’t even know if he liked boys that way, and even if he did he probably didn’t like ones like me. 

He probably liked them tall dark and handsome, just like him. Cultured men that had business degrees- or something like that. Not florists with fumbling hands and jeans ripped at the knees. 

My feet pounded against the cement, and I was glad the rental place had a return box, like the ones at libraries for books. I didn’t have time to go in and make polite conversation as they verified I brought it back, I had to make it back to the bus stop.

I could do it. I’d done it before, but I’d have to sprint. 

And sprint I did, I nearly knocked over a tall woman with thin lips and pointy shoes, who scowled at me as I ran by. I smiled apologetically at the people on the pavements, all rushing to work or in some cases school. I could see the red bus ahead of me, and ran faster, as fast as my legs could go. 

I wasn’t going to make it. 

But then the bus slowed to a stop, to let pedestrians cross the street, and I sped up again. If I could just make it down one more block while the bus was waiting on the pedestrians, I’d be able to reach the bus stop in time. 

As I caught up to the bus in its stopped position, I noticed Univeristy boy was still watching me as I ran for the bus stop. I didn’t bother to wink, or smile, or even wave at him as I passed. I’d already made a fool of myself, although I’d never admit that part of this whole display was just to impress him. I was running down a freezing street just to impress him, just to jump back on the bus and sit down beside him. And then I’d proceed to internally kill myself for things to say.

It would only work if I made it to the stop before the bus did, though. If I couldn’t make it in time I’d just look like an idiot. Running back and then missing the bus stop is the opposite of impressive. 

I did though, I made a final sprint, throwing all my energy into it. And I got to the bus stop just in time. I ended up leaning against the grimy telephone pole for all of thirty seconds, heaving for breath and trying not to look completely exhausted. When the red bus rolled up, and the doors sprang open, I stepped inside, collapsing into my seat beside University boy. 

He didn’t say anything at first, and I could hear the beat of some indie song pulsing out of his headphones, he always played his music too loud. At first I expected him to listen to classical, which I think he did sometimes, but it was generally the hum of a faint beat coming from the miniature speakers. It was hard to tell over the rumbling of the bus, though. 

I leaned back into my seat, tilting my head up towards the ceiling and closing my eyes. I put in my own headphones, playing on a foster the people album through my semi-broken earbuds. And then I got a tap on the shoulder. 

My eyes snapped open and I ripped the headphones out of my ears, turning to stare at the boy beside me, who’s hand still rested on my shoulder. He was looking at me, all storm-cloud eyes and cool refinement. I didn’t know what to do, and I could feel myself flushing under his heavy gaze. 

“Are you a runner?” The boy asked, although it was obvious I didn’t run if I was breathing this hard from the movie return incident.

“No,” I said, trying to keep calm. “I’m a florist.”

The other boy’s features slid into a grin of cool amusement. “A florist?” He echoed. “I didn’t have you pegged for that type.”

“What did you have me pegged for?” I responded hotly. I wasn’t sure what his comment was supposed to mean, but it felt like it had a negative connotation.  

“I don’t know,” He admitted. “I thought cute art student- or something like that.”

I could feel my ears burning red at the word ‘cute’ and University boy seemed to be enjoying how flustered I was. Maybe I had  _him_  pegged wrong. Maybe he did like florists with fumbling hands and ripped jeans. 

“Do you go to the University of London?” I asked, changing the subject away from myself.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m a business student.” And then he paused for a moment. “My name’s Baz.”

“Nice to meet you” I said, extending a hand to shake his. “I’m Simon.”

He took my hand in his, and shook it firmly. I hoped my palm wasn’t sweaty. There was a long pause, and then Baz broke the silence.

“Do you want to go out for coffee sometime?” He asked, and I thought I heard him wrong.

“What?” I asked, pulling the one headphone I’d left in out of my ear, in an attempt to hear him better.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go out for coffee sometime,” Baz repeated. “You seem really cool, and I’ve been meaning to ask you out for awhile.” 

“Yeah!” I said, trying not to sound overly enthusiastic. “Yeah, that sounds great.” 

“Here,” Baz said “Let me give you my number.”

“Oh!” I replied, “of course” and fumbled for my phone in the pocket of my jeans. “Here it is.” I said, passing him my iphone with its shamefully cracked screen. I’d dropped it when Ebb, who also worked at the flower shop, came up behind me without warning. 

I’d already opened the app for a fresh contact before handing it over to him, and he passed me his own phone, to type in my information. Once I’d typed in my number and name, I had to decide if I wanted to put in an emoticon or not, all my friends did in my phone. Penelope had a pair of glasses next to her name, and Agatha had a tulip for some reason, she’d picked it herself. If I did pick one, I knew a heart was too presumptuous, so I was stuck. I spent a moment sitting there, chewing on my bottom lip. I ended up picking a flower, so he’d remember I was Simon the florist. 

If he remembered me at all. 

——-

Baz:

I saw Simon again three days later, we’d decided to go get bubble tea instead of coffee, and then walk to trafalgar square. Apparently coffee made him sick to his stomach sometimes, and I actually liked tea better so the idea worked out well. When I found him in the chattering crowd of pedestrians, Simon was carrying a bouquet of roses and heather under one arm, and looking down at his phone in the other.

It made sense that he’d bring me flowers, he was a florist, but the gesture made me blush as soon as I saw them. Simon didn’t do anything else particularly special though, just wearing one of his oversized jumpers and a pair of light wash jeans. He looked good- but not overdressed, and it made me feel better about my appearance. I’d just worn jeans and one of my own jumpers, a soft green thing I’d gotten for christmas last year. It was probably boden, and definitely cashmere. 

I couldn’t believe I was actually on a date with him. I’d spent the last four months sitting next to him on the bus and convincing myself that one day I’d turn and ask him out, but I could never get up the nerve to actually do it. Simon was beautiful, and impossible to ignore with his honey-blonde curls and blue eyes. I found myself watching him on the days we sat together, noticing the moles on his neck, and the miniscule scratches on his hands that I now knew came from handling roses all day. I spent so much time looking at his torn jeans and golden skin that I hadn’t stopped to think if I actually had a chance with him until the other day. 

But I asked him out anyways, despite having no chance whatsoever, and he said yes. Well, he actually flushed bright red and stuttered out a ‘yeah’, but that was good enough for me. 

And then when I gave him my phone to type in his number, he sat there biting his lip, teasing it through his teeth. I wished I was the one biting his lip. Or that he was biting my lip instead of his own. I wanted to kiss him an inappropriate amount in that moment, considering that was the first time we actually talked. 

“Which one are you getting?” I asked, waiting in line at the bubble tea place. I’d been here before, and discovered I liked the honeydew milk tea, but I had no idea what Simon would like. 

“I’m thinking the caramel milk tea?” He smiled, phrasing it like a question. “Is it good?”

I shrugged. “I haven’t tried it, but if you like caramel, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Well then what are you getting?” He asked, shuffling a little closer to the front of the line as another couple ordered their tea. 

“I’m getting the honeydew.” I said, confident in my tea choice. I tapped my foot impatiently on the tiled floor of the shop as we waited, feeling a little restless in the small space. Thankfully, it didn’t take long for Simon and I to order our teas, and the wait to order turned out to be longer than it took to actually make the teas. 

The honeydew tea was as good as I remembered, and I sipped it slowly, wanting to make sure I still had some when we made it to trafalgar square, even though it was less than a ten minute walk away. The tea was just the right balance between sweet and creamy, the melon flavor complimenting it perfectly. I wondered if Simon liked his as much as I liked mine, and turned to look at him as he walked beside me. 

A good amount of his tea was already gone, and I grinned, finding it funny that he’d somehow managed to drink his tea so fast. I guess he had a sweet tooth. 

“I take it you like the caramel.” I laughed, taking another sip of my own tea. Simon currently had the straw in his mouth, and was unable to answer my question, but he nodded vigorously with widened eyes, making me smile at his exaggerated expressions.

By the time we actually got to Trafalgar square, which was only about ten minutes away from the bubble tea place, Simon had drank almost all of his tea, and was now attempting to steal sips of mine. We sat on the edge of the fountain, watching the tourists and children playing in the square. At this point, I had to keep one hand on my tea all the time, or a significant amount of it would  go mysteriously missing, courtesy of the beautiful boy sitting next to me.

“You know,” I said. “We can go back and get more tea if you want.”

Simon, who had the straw stuck in his mouth, flushed. “Sorry,” He said. “It’s just really good. I’ve never had bubble tea before.”

“Really?” I asked. “I just assumed you had because you agreed so easily when I suggested it.” 

“Yeah, I just mostly wanted to go on a date with you.” He said, looking away from me. “Whatever we’re doing doesn’t matter that much.”

“Oh.” That was the only thing I could think. I mean, I knew Simon must’ve been interested in me to say yes, but I thought it might be some kind of fluke. That somehow he’d said yes without thinking, and then couldn’t figure out how to back out in a polite way. 

“Sorry,” Simon apologized. “Maybe that was too forward.” 

“No, no,” I assured him “I like it. I uh- I like you.” 

Simon grinned. “Well that’s a relief,” He said, and gently kicked my foot with his own. “I like you too.”

“Why’d you agree to come on this date with me?” I asked suddenly, and then I realized I shouldn’t have asked. He’d think about it because of my question, and come up with a thousand reasons  _not_ to have gone on this date.

“Well,” Simon said, blushing again. He blushed a lot. “I always thought you were attractive, and one time you were reading Percy Jackson on the bus and I really wanted to stop and ask you who your favorite character was, and I never got to, so… yeah. Although I don’t mind the tea thing, that’s a plus. And did I mention how attractive you are?”

Now I was the one who probably looked like a lobster, and Simon shot me a wide smile, making my heart stutter. “My favorite character is probably Percy, honestly,” I said. “Even though it’s predictable that my favorite is the protagonist” 

“It’s okay,” Simon said, still smiling with his white teeth. “I think Percy is my favorite too, I can definitely relate to him.”

“How so?” I asked, leaning closer to hear Simon’s response. I could smell roses and lemon verbena on him, like he’d just walked out of a garden.

“I have daddy issues, and I really like food.”

That made me laugh, loudly, and heads in the square turned to look at us. Simon continued on as the pigeons fluttered around the square, and I stole a sip of his tea as payback. He’d been taking sips of mine since we got here. 

“I’m serious, I love food, I could probably eat enough to feed seven people instead of just myself.” 

“but you’re so..” I trailed off. Simon wasn’t skinny, he was built, but not like a bodybuilder or anything. He had sleek, slim muscles and broad shoulders. Carnal, but elegant. “Fit.” I finished, that was the closest I could get to describing him. 

Now Simon was the one laughing loudly, and this time less people were interested in the boys laughing together by the fountain. “I’m fit?” He echoed. I liked the way his lips curled when he smiled. I wanted to see how they’d feel pressed against my own. 

“Yes!” I defended, flushing. “You’re.. muscular!” 

“Muscular!” Simon crowed, delighted with my descriptions.

“Yes! You’re hot, okay?” My face was bright red by now, and Simon was grinning widely. 

“I’m hot?” He asked, and he was biting his lip to keep from laughing, which just proved my point even more- and made me want to kiss him. 

“Yes!” I said exasperatedly. “You’re very hot and it’s very annoying.” 

“I thought you were the hot one.” He said, teasing. I rolled my eyes at him, and Simon continued. “You are uh-” He was blushing red now. “You’re really, really attractive.” 

“Thank you.” I said, and Simon nodded. I really, _really_ , wanted to kiss him. 

“Any time.” He said, giving me another winning smile. 

“You’ll tell me I’m hot any time?”

Simon rolled his eyes, but his cheeks were still tinted pink. “Yes, I’ll tell you you’re hot whenever you want.” 

“Okay,” I said, and tried to ignore the nerves buzzing in the pit of my stomach. “Tell me I’m hot and hold my hand.” 

“You’re hot.” Simon grinned, and grabbed my hand.

I swallowed. “Tell me I’m hot and kiss me.” 

“Baz,” Simon said seriously, making eye contact, still holding my hand in his own. “You’re really, really hot.” 

And then he kissed me. 

 


End file.
